Our Lesions - Street Sects

Hung beneath the lurid glare of ruined dreams

Raw conceit dressed in flesh and human heat

Another broken clock well cleaned

A future of self prescribed irrelevance

The color of debt and subjugation

Hard time

A bottomless well of wishes unfulfilled

A semi-erect, neglected pawn

Living in guilt, regret and negligence

Dying face down on a soiled mattress

Same four grey walls

Spinning

Do we seem miserable?

How should we feel?

When their fat hands

Keep reaching out to take what’s ours

They want us to like it

Our black hole

Settle in and get sucked down

Celebrate our decline

With closed eyes

Suspicion and fear decide our moral code

While faith in ourselves flickers out

Assuming the worst is always preferable

To giving the benefit of doubt

The devil we know, the devil in our hearts

The lover we hide from all our friends

The secret we keep until our dying hour

The terminal hope that we refuse to let go of…

That there is more

Beyond death

There is love

But the pain just gets worse as you age

You’d better get used to its claim

On your dwindling remainder of days

You’ll put a face to the name

Of the phantom that drove you insane

She waits patiently to take you away

But every once in a while

The list of mistakes you’ve compiled

Seems irrelevant and slips from your mind

And in those moments the weight

Holding you down shifts away

And with the pressure removed you can

Almost see who you thought you would be

Far removed from the body and mind

You reluctantly still occupy